


Sick Day

by onebatch2batch



Category: The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: And Karen letting him because why not, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Love the idea of Frank taking care of Karen, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-13 19:22:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12990843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onebatch2batch/pseuds/onebatch2batch
Summary: Karen comes down with an illness, and Frank sticks around to help out.Post-TPS





	Sick Day

_Buzz buzz buzz_

The sound filled the silence of Karen’s apartment incessantly. She groaned and buried deeper in her bed, pulling the blankets up over her head. _Buzz buzz buzz._ Of course, just as she fell into some semblance of sleep, of _course_ her phone would ring. She grimaced as the sound echoed through her head. 

_Buzz buzz buzz._

Eventually, the sound cut off. Karen sighed gratefully, which set off a chain reaction of coughing. Once that died out, she tossed and turned until finally, blissfully, the Nyquil she’d gulped down took over and she fell back into sleep. 

—

The second time Karen awoke, someone was trying to break in. Or at least, that’s what it sounded like. She squeezed open her eyes in confusion, and looked at the clock. It read 5:23, but it was winter, so she wasn’t sure if it was day or night. The darkness was thick around her. 

Karen groaned and forced herself upright, dizzy. The pounding grew more intense, and she sighed. Pulling the comforter around her shoulders with movements like molasses, she made her way to the door and looked through the peep-hole. 

Frank was standing on the other side, and even through the warped glass she could tell he was frantic. Karen coughed and unlatched the door, letting it swing open. Frank bolstered his way through the door before it was fully open, nearly knocking her off her feet. He turned to look at her, mid-word, only to snap his mouth shut. He coughed a little awkwardly as she stared at him, dazed. “Well now I know why you weren’t picking up the goddamn phone. You look like shit.”

“What do you want, Frank?” Karen said, and her voice was hoarse with misuse. She tried to clear her throat but it only irritated the pain and she winced. She had no patience for formalities today—whatever vigilante bullshit he needed help with today, he had about two seconds to plead his case before she went back to bed. The Nyquil she’d taken earlier was making her head all fuzzy. 

“Nothin’, I just—….been tryin’ to reach for you two days.” He looked a mite bashful now, like he knew he’d overreacted. He shifted awkwardly. “Look, you need to go to the doctor.”

Karen waved her hand, already stumbling back towards her room. “I’ll survive,” she said. The thought of putting on real pants and making the trip to the ER made her stomach churn. All she wanted to do was sleep. 

Frank hesitated in her bedroom doorway, watching her collapse onto the mattress. He seemed to consider something, then shucked off his coat and came closer. 

“What’re you doin’?” she mumbled, watching him from her blanket burrito. He ducked around the bed, throwing used tissues in the garbage and surveying the several cups of cold tea laying around. 

“When’s the last time you ate somethin’?” he asked, ignoring her question. 

Karen let out a breath, closing her eyes. She hummed, trying to remember. “Wha’s today?”

“Wednesday.”

“Ellison sent me home sick on…Monday.” Karen furrowed her brows, opening her eyes to look at him tiredly. Every muscle in her body felt made of lead, and her eyelids felt like they were attached to anchors. Despite that, her bed was comfortable and she was glad he was there. Even if he was disturbing her rest. “I think? Since then?”

Frank’s mouth pulled down into a bewildered frown. “You haven’t eaten in two days?”

She lifted one shoulder in response, humming again. The soft, worried baritone of his voice was soothing to her ears. She pulled the blanket up to her chin and shivered. Frank walked over and placed his hand on her forehead for a brief moment. “Mmmm, that’s nice,” she murmured, leaning into the touch. 

He ignored her and after a moment, he pulled away. “You’re warm, Karen. Let me take you to the doctor.”

She reached up and closed her fingers around his wrist, smiling up at him. “Don’t want the doctor. Want you.”

Frank looked down at her, surprised, before his features softened into something she couldn’t quite place. He brushed the hair out of her face, seemingly making up his mind.

“Go to sleep, Karen,” he told her softly. 

And she did. 

—

The third time Karen awoke, it was to the mattress dipping just below her hip. She groaned and opened her eyes, frowning at the figure beside her. 

“Frank?” she muttered. She thought he would have been long gone by now, but he was there with a towel draped over one shoulder and a bowl in one hand. He set a glass of water down on the beside table with the other and turned his gaze on her. 

“Sit up,” he ordered gently, “you need to eat somethin’.”

The effort it took to force herself into a sitting position was incredible. Karen braced herself against the headboard and took the bowl he offered, sniffing it curiously. When the smell hit her, her stomach let out an embarrassingly loud growl. Frank ducked his head and chuckled, then placed a small white bag next to her on the bed. 

“Wha’s that?” she asked, stirring the soup. She was beyond embarrassment at this point. She was _starving_ , and the soup smelled delicious. 

“I got you some real medicine. None of this Nyquil bullshit. You needed antibiotics.” He didn’t explain were the antibiotics came from, and she didn’t care enough to ask. 

Karen lifted the spoon to her lips and drank some of the broth. She let out a low groan of pure glee. Despite the way she felt, she knew good soup when she tasted it. “Frank, this is….really good.”

His cheeks flushed, and he struggled to hide his pleased expression. “Maria used to love this soup when she was sick. Homemade.”

Karen ate in silence for a minute or two while Frank busied himself around the room. The mention of his wife left her wordless as usual, and she imagined him sitting at Maria’s bedside, a younger, much softer Frank. The thought gave her a bittersweet smile. She followed him around the room with her eyes and noticed several interesting things. First, he had dug out her old humidifier and it was running quietly in the corner. She totally forgot she even had one of those. Second, the room was disturbingly clean—all the mugs were gone, and he had put away the pile of work clothes she’d changed out of and thrown on the floor. He’d cleaned up for her.

“Why are you still here?” she asked to his back as he walked out of the room. He stopped, then turned to look at her like she was the biggest idiot in the world. 

“…eat your soup, Karen. And take the antibiotic. I’ll be back in a little while.”

—

True to his word, Frank returned a couple hours later just as Karen walked out of the bathroom. She had felt disgusting and more than a little self conscious after he left, so she slept for a while then forced herself to get up. She brushed her teeth and took a long, hot shower to feel semi-normal. 

He closed the door behind him and looked her up and down. “You look better,” he said, then moved to the kitchen. 

“I still feel like shit,” she muttered, sitting on the couch and pulling a throw blanket over her. He huffed a laugh and went about making some tea. He leaned against the counter and watched her as she picked up the tv remote, flipping through the channels. When she noticed him watching, she hit the off button and raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Where did you go?” she asked him when he continued to stare, drawing her knees to her chest. 

Frank looked at her like he was trying to think of a lie. Finally, he shrugged and turned to the whistling tea kettle. “Had to let the dog out.”

Karen scoffed, staring at him in amusement. “Dog? You have a _dog_?”

“Well—…”

“And you didn’t _bring him_?”

Frank stopped to look at her in surprise, then cracked a small smile. He brought her over a steaming cup of tea and took a seat at the other end of the couch. “I’ll bring him around, if ya’ want.”

Karen took a sip of the tea and was relieved when it soothed her raw throat. “Good. Do you want to watch tv?” 

Frank shrugged his assent, and Karen flipped the tv back on. She hesitated, looking at him through her lashes. The last thing she wanted to do was scare him off, or get him sick, but it was freezing in her apartment and all she wanted to do was cuddle up next to him. The man was practically a walking furnace. 

Frank swiveled his head to look at her like he could hear her thoughts. His lips twitched in amusement. “C’mere,” he told her after a moment, then tucked her under his arm when she came closer. She sighed as his warmth enveloped her, surprised but glad. He always seemed to know what she needed (or more accurately, wanted). 

It wasn’t much long after that she felt her eyelids drooping. For someone as sick as she was, she’d accomplished more than she should have in the past couple hours. Frank’s thumb was drawing light circles on her shoulder, and after another tv episode of drifting in and out of consciousness, Frank shook her carefully. “Do you want to go to bed?” he asked her quietly, and in any other circumstances the phrasing would have made her shiver. 

As it was, she only shook her head. “Can we stay here?” she asked, biting her lip. 

Frank hesitated, then nodded. “Stay there,” he told her, then stood and disappeared into her room. He came back a moment later and draped her comforter over her, sitting and placing the pillow on his thigh. “Lay down.”

Karen smiled at him, then slid down until her head was pillowed on his leg. He placed a hand on her shoulder, and she pulled the blanket up while he opened a book with his opposite hand. 

“Thank you, Frank. For the soup, and…staying.”

Frank flashed her a quick little smile. “Owe you more than that. Don’t mention it.”

Karen only hummed, closing her eyes and drifting slowly into unconsciousness, feeling better and more comfortable than she had in days. 

—

One week later, Frank showed up on Karen’s doorstep looking like hell—and very, very, _very_ unamused. 

She opened the door and he brushed past her into the apartment, slouching onto the couch without hesitation. He stared at her as she closed the door and said two words that told her she was in for a long couple of days.

“Your turn.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, comments and kudos make my day!! Thank you to everyone that has subscribed to me, or liked/commented on my other Kastle fics!


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